


The Blood

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [31]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Bad headspace, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Consent Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Idiots in Love, Light Bondage, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Trust Issues, dick winters shamelessly flirting with an old lady, hunter dick winters, vampire nix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: It was always like this—hot and close, but never close enough.  Blood roaring in his veins, in his ears.  Pounding through him, demanding that he take and take and take.  And God, he wanted to, but he never would.  He couldn’t.But it was always like this.





	The Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Dick and Nix decided they didn't like me ignoring them for so many chapters. This is what happened.

It was always like this—hot and close, but never close enough. Blood roaring in his veins, in his ears. Pounding through him, demanding that he take and take and _take. _And _God, _he wanted to, but he never would. He couldn’t. 

But it was always like this.

“You can restrain me if you want,” Nix murmured against the soft skin of Dick’s neck. He brushed his lips over the warmth there and inhaled. Dick smelled so good. He _always _smelled so good—Nix could practically _taste _him.

“No,” Dick gasped, pressing closer, as Nix sucked a wet kiss onto his skin and flicked his tongue against his pulse, “I want your hands on me.”

Nix growled deep in his throat, pressing Dick into the wall. Then, with very little effort, he hauled Dick up so that the hunter could wrap his legs around Nix’s hips. Nix dropped his hands to Dick’s hips and began to set a steady, grinding pace. “Like this?” He panted.

“Y-yes,” Dick gasped. “Yeeesssss,” he moaned, tossing his head back against the wall, exposing the long line of his pale throat. Nix swallowed thickly and clutched at Dick’s hips just a bit tigher. 

“Hold on,” Nix murmured, patting Dick’s legs. Dick tightened his hold, the long, lean muscles of his legs tightening on Nix’s hips, pressing against his ass, and bringing him impossibly closer to Dick’s body and the tight v of his thighs. Then, slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands up and pulled Dick’s arms from around his shoulders. Dick went willingly, allowing Nix to guide him. Nix twined their fingers together then pressed Dick’s hands back against the wall, held above his head. Dick whined, completely at Nix’s mercy. It drove Nix crazy, he thought he was gonna lose his mind. He pressed them even closer to the wall. Their hips continued in a deep, dirty grind that was simultaneously not enough and _so goddamn satisfying_. Dick whined and gasped a breath as Nix changed the angle of his hips and sped up his thrusts. The sound was heaven; it was hell. Nix leaned forward and captured Dick’s lips, swallowing down his next breath. Then the next, and then Dick was panting again and his grip tightened on Nix’s fingers. Nix kissed him wetly, open-mouthed, and let his tongue tangle with Dick’s.

Dick moaned and pressed back, his tongue caressing against Nix’s fangs like he was strangely fond of doing. Only….

Nix smelled the blood before he tasted it—just the first welling drop, _temptation, divine, GOTTA HAVE MORE, NEED IT NOW, NEED IT, NEED IT, NEED IT!_

Nix jerked away from Dick, his body going cold, and numb, a chilled sweat already breaking out on his skin as his hands began to shake. “_I’m sorry,” _Nix gasped, as his blood hammered at him from inside his veins, demanding that he move, move, _move. _

“My fault,” Dick murmured, raising a hand to his mouth in surprise, bright blue eyes staring at Nix. “Are you okay?”

“Dick,” Nix gasped, “I…I can’t. I can’t.” The shaking grew more violent and he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dick’s mouth, where he could see just the hint of red smeared at the corner of his lips.

“Okay,” Dick said, bracing his hands on Nix’s shoulders and dropping his feet to the floor to stand on his own again. “What do you need?”

Nix’s eyes were fixed on the corner of Dick’s mouth, and he couldn’t stop thinking that the hint he’d gotten had been the sweetest fucking thing he’d ever tasted, and wouldn’t it be just _perfect _to taste it again? All he had to do was lean forward a few inches, and he could have it. He _could. _He knew his eyes must be fully black now, the blood fever raging through him, and his hands were shaking so badly with the force of holding his entire being back from the one thing it wanted most in the world. 

Nix gulped and his throat bobbed—it was too dry. He knew just the thing. “The crucifix, Dick,” Nix gasped. “Get it out.” His breaths heaved out of him like he’d just run a marathon, and his shoulders were tense, his whole body was. He licked his lips and forced his eyes up to Dick’s.

“Nix….” Dick started, reaching out a hand toward him.

“The crucifix.” Nix growled.

“Alright.” Dick pulled it from his pocket and raised it, slowly, so that Nix could see it.

Nix felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him and his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “Keep it on you,” Nix said. “Promise me.”

“I—Lew….” Dick started, taking a step forward.

“No!” Nix hissed, taking a step back so that Dick couldn’t get any closer. “You should leave, Dick. Just… take the Jeep. Go into town for a few hours or something. I…I need. _I need_.”

“Alright,” Dick said, “Okay, Nix.”

Dick kept the crucifix up and sidled his way out from between Nix and the wall. Nix watched his movements, eyes heavy, dark, fixed on every single movement Dick made. “G-go,” Nix murmured, lips trembling, hands shaking, blood raging through him.

“Alright, Nix. I’m going. See?” Dick backed away, one steady step at a time, and it took _everything _Nix had not to follow him, not to wrap Dick in his arms and press their mouths together and _taste him _again. It’d be so easy. “Just… take care of yourself.” Dick said. “And call me if you need anything.”

Nix was still chuckling, voice dark, as Dick pulled the front door closed behind him. _Need. _

It was always like this. And it always would be, wouldn’t it?

* * *

It was only 8 by the time Dick stumbled outside, his own hands shaking just slightly (he wondered if Nix had noticed?) as he slid behind the wheel of his Jeep. He took off like Nix said, trying to take deep breaths as he drove into town and tried not to worry too much about what he’d just left behind. That had been…bad. Dangerous. Terrifying. 

He knew that. He knew that a boundary they’d promised not to cross had just been crossed, albeit accidentally. Dick should’ve taken greater care, but he’d been too caught up in the moment, too turned on to notice that he was pressing harder than usual against the sharp point of the fang that he shouldn’t find sexy, but did.

And now…. Well. He still clasped the crucifix in his hand—it dug into his palm he held it so tightly. 

That was the closest they’d ever come to…. Well. Not the first time they met, when Nix had every reason to want to bite him, not the time Nix had pinned him to the ground and told him how easy it would be, not even the first time they’d had sex and Nix had broken down in his arms because it was all _so goddamn much. _

Nix walked on eggshells every single day, and tonight he’d almost broken a few.

Dick just hoped that he didn’t do anything crazy—that he didn’t hurt himself. Dick knew that no matter what he said, Nix would believe that it was his fault. He hadn’t hurt Dick, he hadn’t taken anything. But Dick had seen it in Nix’s eyes, clearer than he ever had before. It had been a close thing. Nix had practically leashed himself in order to keep himself under control just long enough for Dick to get out. To get away. To get somewhere safe.

But… nowadays, Dick felt the safest with Nix. And this was all wrong. All wrong.

Dick pulled into the parking lot downtown and killed the engine. Then he sat there, for a long moment, just resting his forehead against the steering wheel, hands clutching it tightly still, and wondered how the hell they were gonna get through this one.

A small café was still open—until midnight, actually—so Dick wandered in, bought himself a cup of hot chocolate (he didn’t need any caffeine, he was already so keyed up—blood pounding, pulse racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins) and settled in a booth near the window, so that he could look out at the evening.

He ran a thumb over his phone and resigned himself for a long wait.

* * *

Nix didn’t allow himself to move until he heard the Jeep’s engine fade away, and then he slowly uncurled his hands and barely noticed the bloody half-moons his nails had carved into his palms. He made his way quickly, mindlessly, to the kitchen, and he tore the door open, nearly prying it from its hinges. He stood there in the light of the fridge and downed a bottle of blood. Then dropped it, and grabbed a second. Then a third. He settled on the floor in front of the open door, the cold light from inside spilling on him as he drank another. Then another. And another.

Then he fell back against the cool tile and finally allowed himself to breathe.

The house smelled like Dick, and Nix could still taste a hint of his blood on the back of his tongue despite all the bottles of pig’s blood he’d just drained. He’d never be able to wash it down or drown it out. 

It would haunt him for the rest of his undead life. The taste of Dick Winters. _God, _it was hard enough when he hadn’t known how great it’d be—when he could only imagine (or NOT imagine, because he didn’t let himself think like that anymore—not for a long time) but now he knew and it was gonna kill him. Nothing else had managed it thus far, but this was gonna do him in. 

He hauled himself to his feet, the blood sloshing in his belly, and he felt immediately ill. He stumbled over to the sink and hung his head over just in time, before he vomited several bottles worth into the basin. He heaved again, and felt himself become empty, and hopeless.

He was shaking again, but he had the strength to turn on the water and wash the blood away—Dick didn’t need to see this when he came back.

_If._

The word sent a shiver down his spine even as he thought it, and his heart clenched. But that _was _the right word, wasn’t it? _If _Dick came back.

He’d just seen the truth, hadn’t he? He’d seen what Nix could be.

Now he’d realize the precariousness of his situation. He’d realize that Nix was a monster. He’d…. He’d leave.

Nix swallowed thickly and then grabbed another bottle of blood from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table, taking a swig before dropping his head into his hands.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Dick’s phone finally lit up with a text. He opened the message with trembling hands. “_Dick—I’m sorry. I hope you’re okay. I’m going to need a little more time.”_

Dick released a deep breath and typed back: “_I’m fine, Lew. How are you?”_

The response was nearly instantaneous. “_I’m…dealing. Don’t worry about me. Just give me a little time. I’m sorry. Do you have somewhere you can go?”_

Dick frowned. _“Sure. For how long?”_

_“At least for the night. Maybe a couple days.”_

Dick’s eyebrows rose and he realized that his hands had calmed. _“A couple days?”_

_“Enough time for you to heal properly.”_

Dick sighed, but he understood. He remembered how hard it’d been last time for Nix, and he’d only smelled it then. Dick couldn’t even begin to imagine what this had been like. That Dick had been kissing him, that they’d been wrapped up in each other, as close as they could get with clothes still on, rocking toward an incredible orgasm, when Dick had nicked his tongue. He hadn’t tasted the coppery tang of his own blood until Nix had already jerked back, shaking, pale, like he’d been shot.

Dick didn’t like it, but he understood…or at least, he thought he might. And he knew that he couldn’t say anything to fix it. Not right now. Probably not for a few days. So he texted back: _“Alright, Lew. A couple days. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”_

The response didn’t come immediately, though Dick figured he’d probably worry more if it had, but finally Nix messaged back, saying “_I promise. You too.”_

Dick glanced at the time. Ten to midnight. If he was lucky, he’d be able to find a room in town. And if not, well… that haunting in Harrisburg had his name on it.

* * *

Dick napped in the Jeep, pulled over at a rest stop in the middle of the night. He wasn’t _tired, _exactly—he was used to staying up late nowadays—but he was emotionally exhausted after the events of the evening. So, he’d pulled over for some shut-eye, then continued on to Harrisburg, where he’d found a 24 hour diner to wait in until the motels started opening up for the day.

While he ate his eggs and drank his (pretty decent) diner coffee, he poured over the newspaper reports on his phone, hoping to distract himself. It seemed that the haunting of 2331 E. Maple Street was a well-known case for the locals, but reports of it had recently ramped up thanks to a new buyer who had renovated the old Victorian and turned it into a bed and breakfast. (Dick paused in his reading momentarily to scoff and roll his eyes—it was always a B&B.) Apparently, however, one of the guests—a woman—had suffered injuries while sleeping in one of the rooms and reported being attacked by a tall, shadowy man. The owner was now being sued and had been forced to close the B&B until the case was resolved. One local reporter interviewed the owner (a man named Jackson Smith—Dick rolled his eyes again) and asked if he planned on looking for some paranormal expertise in order to deal with his undead houseguest. Smith was quoted as saying “Are you kidding me? Ghosts sell. That’s the biggest draw this place has—and now thanks to this case, I’ll have even more guests.” The reporter, one Maggie Sinclair, asked “Don’t you have any regrets about this unfortunate event?” Smith responded “I’m sorry I didn’t have her sign a liability waiver before I gave her the key, but I learned from that mistake.”

Dick snorted and downed the rest of his coffee. Smith sounded like a real charmer. Well, Dick wouldn’t feel bad for whatever he had to do to resolve the case, then.

After paying his bill, Dick decided to do a drive-by of the house before finding a room. He had to know what sort of situation he might be dealing with. 

He sighed heavily when he realized that 2331 E. Maple sat in the middle of a quaint older neighborhood, filled with little old ladies walking their dogs and middle-aged men reading their newspapers out on their front porches. If Dick made a habit of cursing, he would’ve then, but instead, he kept the Jeep moving down the road and waved, smiling, at several residents who noticed him. 

Alright. This was gonna take a bit of work.

He found a room a few miles away and thanked his own foresight for the spare bag he’d decided to keep in the Jeep since his spontaneous jaunt to New Jersey. He hauled it into the room with him, but then tossed it on the side table before face-planting on the bed, his whole body (and mind) exhausted. He just needed a few hours before he could head to the library for some research. Just a few hours. Before he passed out, though, he dug his phone out of his pocket and saw he had an unopened message from Nix. Sighing heavily, Dick opened the message and read: _“I’m sorry I sent you away like that. Were you able to find a place to stay?”_

Dick’s shoulders slumped as he read the message then cast his eyes around at the faded beige walls of the motel room. _“Yeah, Nix. I found a place. How are you feeling?”_

Dick expected Nix to be sleeping, but he should’ve known better by now. The vampire responded immediately, saying: _“I’ve been better.”_

_“Anything I can do?” _Dick asked.

_“You’re doing it now. Thank you. Be safe.”_

Dick sighed. “_Get some sleep, Nix.”_

Then Dick followed his own advice and did the same.

* * *

Hours later, after a nap and a shower, Dick felt more like himself as he smiled genially at the elderly librarian and asked her where they kept the old newspapers. As Mable led him to the handy microfiche machine, she commented “It’s so nice to see young people interested in history. Anything in particular I can help you find?”

Dick blushed and shrugged a shoulder bashfully, saying “I probably shouldn’t mention it yet, but I’m a writer.”

“Oh, my! How lovely!” Mable exclaimed. “What do you write?”

“Mysteries, mostly. Sometimes I delve into true crime. I find some of my best inspiration from digging through old files and newspaper reports.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I know it’s not proper, probably, but I do find it fascinating.”

“I love mysteries!” Mable declared.

Dick lowered his whisper to an even more subtle hush and said “Would you happen to know of any particularly juicy scandals that might make for a good book?”

“Oh, honey, do I!” Mable motioned for Dick to take a seat at the microfiche machine and she sat in the one next to his. “You got paper and a pencil? I’ll start you off with some good search queries.”

Dick winked at her. “That would be just wonderful.”

Dick spent the whole afternoon at the library digitally sifting through newspapers from the last 150 years, but eventually, thanks to Mabel (and her insatiable love for gossip), he found exactly what he was looking for. 

Franklin Van Buren, known bachelor, had built the house in the hopes of attracting a wife. And it seemed to work—he was engaged to a pretty young Miss Evaline Wilson within the year. Tragically, however, she was found stabbed to death in the garden of her parents’ home two weeks before the wedding. After a period of mourning (and some lucrative business deals), Van Buren gained the romantic interest of Lydia Hall, heiress. They had a short, though turbulent, engagement, punctuated by icy, and often public, disagreements. However, after only four months, they were married. And they were married for about 15 months, before Lydia jumped to her death from her bedroom window in the middle of the day. Tragedy, it seemed, followed Franklin around.

Finally, though, it seemed maybe he’d met his perfect match: Josephine O’Reilly, the spitfire daughter of a local lawyer. All of the papers agreed that they were the ideal couple, and Harrisburg society were eagerly awaiting the ceremony.

Three weeks before the wedding, Josephine shot Franklin in his sleep. When she was arrested, she said that she’d uncovered Franklin’s plans to kill her shortly after her wedding and that he’d also killed his other former lovers. Though she admitted to the murder and even turned over the gun to the police, her father represented her well in court and she managed to avoid a hanging.

Franklin was, conveniently, buried in the old Harrisburg Cemetery. 

Happy with his afternoon’s work, Dick took a leisurely drive through the cemetery after and located the Van Buren mausoleum relatively easily. “Well, this shouldn’t be too hard,” he murmured to himself before heading back to the 24 hour diner for a burger and some fries before he turned in for the night.

Freshly showered and sprawled on the motel bed, Dick plucked his phone off the charger and saw a new message from Nix: _“Staying out of trouble?”_

Dick smirked. “_Of course. You?”_

_“Doing my best.” _Dick thought maybe that was it, but then the phone buzzed with another text: “_The bed smells like you.” _Then: _“The whole house does, really.” _Then, finally: _“I miss you.”_

Dick’s heart clenched as he read each successive message. “_I could come back.”_

The response was immediate, panicked. “_Not yet.”_

Dick sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the approaching headache. _“Alright.” _Nix didn’t text back after that, so Dick did his best to get some sleep.

* * *

Nix drank his fourth bottle of the evening and paced his kitchen like a madman. He eyed his phone, sitting darkly on the table, and thought about texting Dick again. Thought about saying he’d changed his mind and he wanted him back, now. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. It was too soon, too dangerous. It took longer than that for a nick to heal, didn’t it? It didn’t matter, anyway. Because, apparently, it took longer than that for Nix’s blood to settle after getting so riled up. He hadn’t managed it yet.

“This isn’t working,” he growled, before stalking out of the room, then out of the house. He tossed the empty bottle on the slightly-yellowed lawn and shoved his restless hands into his pockets. _A walk. _That’s what he needed. A nice…leisurely…stroll. To clear his head a little. And keep his body busy. That’s all he needed. Just a little fresh air. _So that he didn’t breathe Dick in with every single inhale. _“Goddamnit,” Nix grumbled, tearing his hands from his pockets and shoving them through his hair. How in the hell had it gotten this bad? Nix had fed on a lot of people in his time—attractive people—and he’d never had a reaction like this before.

_You’ve never been in love before, either. _

“Shut up,” he growled at himself. “That’s not helping.”

_It’s true, though, isn’t it? You’ve always been able to have what you wanted—before, when you were new and used to take it, and after, when you used to go to places where you knew they wanted it just as bad as you. Now? _

“I want it.” Nix whispered to the still night air. “I want _him _so fucking bad.” He ran a hand through his hair again and tugged at it for a moment, just enough so that he _felt _it. “I have him, though.” Nix murmured to himself. “I do. I have him. Just not like…_that. _He doesn’t want that, so _I _don’t want that.” He began to pace the length of his front yard. “I _know _that. I do. I just….” Nix stopped, and dropped his hands to his sides, like his strings had just been cut. “Goddamnit.” He hissed. Then he dropped to the grass and sprawled there against a tree, his legs spread out before him. He still wore the same clothes from the night before. He should probably change soon. “It’s alright,” he assured himself. “All relationships have challenges. This one is just… ya know. Always gonna be there.” He huffed and dropped his head forward into his hands. He thought of his phone, still sitting in the kitchen, and his fingers itched for it, itched to press _call _just so that he could hear Dick’s voice. He had to know. Had to. And text messages weren’t good enough. He couldn’t ask in a message like that. Not what he really wanted to know.

_Are you ever coming back to me? Did I fuck this up for good? Can you ever trust me again? _

This was the exact reason Dick hadn’t wanted to get involved with him in the first place. He’d been right. Nix was a vampire. No matter what else he was, he was a vampire, and he needed blood to sustain him. That would never change. It would always be his own personal struggle. _He wanted. _

Didn’t he?

“God, I’m pathetic,” Nix muttered, before flopping back into the grass. 

* * *

Dick spent the next day preparing—purchasing supplies from several different stores, scouting out his intended route, and reviewing his detailed plans. All in all, it was a productive day. Busy. Distracting. Just what he needed.

So when he crept into the cemetery at 1:30 in the morning toting a bag full of salt, matches, and gasoline, with a shotgun loaded with rock-salt perched on his shoulder, he felt like he was finally his old self again. 

The lock on the front of the mausoleum was rusty and broke easily. Inside, the place was stuffy and dusty—no one had been around for a very long time. It was easy to locate the panel behind which Franklin Van Buren’s coffin was interred. “Sorry about this, everyone,” Dick murmured before he wrenched the decorative plate away and tore the door open to reveal the coffin. “I always hate this part,” he confessed, as he reached in and tugged the coffin so that it slid out and onto the floor with a deafening clang. 

The hair on the back of his neck prickled and Dick managed to duck just as a decorate vase flew over his head and smashed into the back wall of the small building. He turned to find a tall, dark, shadowy figure barring the door of the mausoleum. “_Get out,” _a deep, scratchy voice moaned.

“Sorry, Frankie, but I’ve got business to attend to, first.” Dick said. 

“_Get out!” _The voice demanded, louder this time. 

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble in your time,” Dick said. “But it ends tonight.” Dick took a step forward and kicked the lid of the coffin open to reveal the dried bones of Franklin Van Buren. “You’re not going to hurt anyone else.” Dick promised.

“_GET OUT!!!” _The voice roared and then an unseen force shoved Dick backward into the stone wall hard enough that it knocked the wind out of him.

Dick glanced down at the shotgun and wondered whether it was worth someone potentially hearing it. Then he remembered the women that this guy had killed and the others he’d hurt, and he decided it was definitely worth it. In one smooth movement, Dick raised the shotgun to his shoulder and pulled the trigger, blasting a spray of rock salt through the dark form of the spirit, who dissolved with a pained moan. “Worth it,” Dick panted as he lowered the weapon and rummaged around in his bag for the other supplies. He knew that Franklin would be back as soon as he figured out that he _could _come back, so Dick made quick work of salting the bones and dousing them in gasoline.

Franklin appeared in the corner, form heaving, buzzing with rage, just as Dick tossed the matches into the coffin and the whole thing lit up. The spirit shrieked and reached for him, but Dick simply took a step back and watched on in satisfaction as the dry bones burned quickly. The shadowy form faded into wisps, and eventually its enraged cries tapered off, until Dick stood, alone, in the smoky mausoleum. “Alright,” Dick murmured to himself, shoving his supplies back in the bag. “Time to get the heck out of here before the police show up.”

Dick didn’t bother going back to the motel. Harry had taught him that it was better this way. If you could get out early, do it. No sense in having a stranger lingering long enough for some local to notice the grave desecration. 

Dick drove for about an hour then stopped at the first roadside motel he came across that displayed a vacancy sign. The old man behind the counter didn’t ask many questions and that suited Dick just fine, so he paid in cash and then took his bag and made his way to the room to shower.

It felt good to be clean after that—just being in the room with Franklin Van Buren had made Dick feel dirty. Not to mention the dust and ash. Dick smelled like a crypt, and he couldn’t help laughing as he thought about it. If only Nix could get a whiff of him now—maybe that would solve their problem.

Speaking of….

As Dick ran one of the small motel towels over his damp hair, his phone lit up with a message. He felt his lips twitch with just the hint of fond exasperation. _“You still up?”_

_“Yeah. How are you, Nix?”_

_“I’m...getting there.”_

Dick sighed. _“Still need more time?”_

_“Just a little more. I promise.” _Then: _“Are you okay?”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“Fine?” _When Dick didn’t respond after five minutes, Nix texted: “_Dick? Where are you?”_

Dick quirked a brow at the phone and contemplated how much he should say. He could already imagine Nix’s reaction. Finally, he shrugged and figured the truth was always their best bet. “_About an hour outside of Harrisburg.”_

_“You’re on a hunt.” _Funny, how Dick imagined he could hear the tone of Nix’s voice even through a text.

Dick couldn’t help the smirk that quirked his lips. _“Not anymore.”_

He knew he should’ve expected it, but he was still startled when the phone rang. Dick answered and pressed the phone to his ear. “Are you okay?” Nix asked, and even through the phone, Dick could hear how stressed he was, and how he tried to keep himself calm. 

After the two days of radio silence, his voice sounded so good, and if Dick closed his eyes, he could even pretend that Nix was there with him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Is it done?”

“Yep. Done and dusted. Ghost was a real piece of work.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Sure, Lew. It pushed me around a bit, but I doubt I even have a bruise.”

Even across the line, Dick could hear Nix’s growl. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you at least tell Harry what you were doing?”

“I’m fine, Nix.” Dick answered.

“Goddamnit, Dick!” Nix huffed. “You promised me you’d be careful!”

Dick frowned at the phone, irritated in return. “I was.”

“You just faced down a psychotic ghost all by yourself! What if?!”

“What if what, Lew?”

“What if… what if you weren’t okay? What then, Dick? Huh? What if you weren’t okay? What if you were hurt? What if…?” Nix’s voice choked up for a second and Dick almost felt bad for provoking him. Almost.

“Lew. Listen to me.” He could hear Nix’s breaths over the line—the vampire was breathing too hard, panicking. “Nix.”

Finally, after a couple minutes, Nix’s wavering voice answered “Yeah.”

“Listen. I’m fine. Do you understand me? I mean it. I am perfectly fine.” The other end of the line grew silent. “I’m not hurt, I’m not in shock, and I’m not scared. I’m a big boy, Lew, and I’m telling you—_I am fine._”

“Dick,” Nix whispered, brokenly, knowing they weren’t talking about the hunt anymore.

“I’m coming home tomorrow, Nix.”

“What?!” Nix gasped. “No, Dick. Not yet. It’s too soon.”

“It’s been two days already, Nix. And by the time I get there it will have been three. I’m coming home. You and I need to talk.”

“Dick, please. Listen. You can’t be here, yet.”

“Why not?”

The line was silent for a moment, except for the harsh, panicked breathing on the other end. And then, finally, Nix croaked “You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”

He could hear Nix gulp. “What if I…?”

“You won’t.”

“Dick….”

“You won’t.”

“Please.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow night, Lew.”

“Goddamnit, Dick,” Nix muttered.

Dick smiled, despite himself, and murmured “I love you too, Lew,” before he ended the call.

* * *

Nix wound back his arm to throw the phone, but thought better of it at the last minute and instead dropped it on the table and took a step away from it like it was a venomous snake. He couldn’t wrap his head around the conversation he’d just had. What in _hell _was Dick thinking, putting himself in danger like that? _He’s always in danger, isn’t he? _“Fuck off,” Nix growled at his own, very unhelpful brain. _It’s true though—every moment he spends around you, he’s in danger. Living the life he lives…he’s in danger. _“And I can’t even help him!” Nix hissed, swiping an empty bottle from the table—his third of the night. It shattered and Nix felt just a bit better. 

_I love you too, Lew. _Those were the last words Dick had said before he’d abruptly ended the call. Nix still couldn’t make sense of it. _I love you too. _How? How could Dick love him? How could he say that he was _okay _after…after everything? After Nix had proven himself to be the monster he’d promised Dick he wasn’t? How could Dick say such a thing to him?

Nix had to get his shit together. Dick was going to be back in less than 24 hours. Nix wasn’t ready for that. Not at all. He briefly thought of packing a bag and going to stay at his New York place for a few days, just until everything blew over, but then he’d quickly dismissed the idea. He couldn’t imagine leaving here and having Dick return to find him gone, with no explanation. That’d hurt worse than this, probably. He’d never do that to Dick. 

He had to get it together. 

He had a choice to make right now. He could run—he was terrified, after all. More scared than he’d ever been of anything in his whole existence—this made the trenches in France look like a mild inconvenience. Or. Or…he could step up. He could make a choice. He could do better. He’d prove it. He’d do whatever it took to get it together and keep it together.

Nix slid into a chair and contemplated the phone again for a minute before he finally made up his mind. Squaring his shoulders, he dialed and hoped it wasn’t too late. It rang once, twice, and then….

“Currahee. This is Harry. How can I help you?”

“Harry,” Nix said. “It’s Lewis Nixon. Do you have a minute?”

“Nix?” Harry asked, and then suddenly the background noise faded and Harry’s voice became clearer. “Is it Dick? Is he alright?”

“He’s…fine, I think.”

“You think? What the hell does that mean? I swear to God, if you…!”

“He’s not here right now,” Nix interrupted, raising his voice. “He, uh…was getting antsy and went to handle a haunting in Harrisburg. I thought he’d called you, but turns out he didn’t.”

“Idiot,” Harry muttered. “He’s okay, though?”

“He said so when I got off the phone with him just a little while ago.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment.” Nix could hear clattering in the background, like Harry was moving bottles around or something. Then, “Well, if Dick’s alright, why are you calling?”

Nix shifted uncomfortably in the chair, took a deep breath, and just decided to go for it. “I wanted to offer my services.”

“Your…services?” Harry sounded confused. “Which services are you offering, exactly?”

Nix couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t know how much Dick has told you about my past.”

“He hasn’t.” Harry said. “He’s been annoyingly tight-lipped about you, actually.”

“Has he?” Nix asked, and his lips quirked. “Well, you know Dick. Loyal to a fault, right?”

“Right. So. What services?”

“I used to work in Army Intelligence. Signal Corps, actually. I, uh…I’m pretty good at gathering information. I have some contacts in New York that might be helpful. And I could, uh… research. I could do research. And translations. I can speak multiple languages including Greek and Latin.”

“O-kay,” Harry said, sounding confused, “I have to admit, that does sound pretty useful. Army Intelligence, you said?”

“Yep. I’ve always been pretty good at finding things.”

“Alright,” Harry said. “Well, we could always use more help. But, uh… can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“Why are you doing this? I mean… you don’t have to. Dick’s already vouched for you. You’re safe.”

Nix’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he wondered what exactly that meant. “It’s…complicated.”

“Give it a shot.”

Nix huffed. “Fine. It’s like this: Dick is a hunter. He hunts. He needs to hunt. He’s always going to hunt. He needs… to feel useful. And I…well. I’m not good at that. Not like Dick. But I care about him, Harry. A lot. And I can’t be there for him, maybe in the way that he needs me to be, but I want to be there for him in a way that I can. And maybe I need to feel useful, too. And if this will help him to be even just a fraction safer than he is right now, it’s worth it.” Nix took a deep breath and forced his fingers to relax their grip on the phone. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah, Nix,” Harry said. “It does.” The line was silent for a moment, and then Harry added “Thanks for the offer. I’ll keep you posted.”

Nix let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Yeah. You too. Tell Dick to call me when he gets a chance.” Then Harry ended the call and Nix stared at the phone for a long while before he set it aside. Less than 24 hours.

* * *

All the lights were on in the house when Dick arrived. The door was unlocked and so Dick walked in with only a brief knock. He found Nix pacing in the living room, though the vampire stopped in his tracks and turned to him, eyes wide, startled by Dick’s presence. Dick knew he must’ve been completely absorbed in his own thoughts not to have heard Dick arrive. Dick dropped his bag in the doorway and made his way into the room. He stopped a couple steps in when he realized that Nix had taken a couple steps back. Dick quirked a brow. “You okay, Nix?”

“Dick.” Nix said, staring at him with his wide, chocolate eyes. He swallowed thickly. “I’m fine.” He twisted his hands together. “Uh…how are you?”

“Better,” Dick said, taking another step into the room. Nix held up a shaky hand and Dick stopped. “It’s good to be back.” Dick said. “I missed you.” He took another step.

“Stop,” Nix ordered, his hand still up like a barrier between them. “Don’t get any closer.”

“Nix.” Dick said. “We need to talk.”

“Sure. Yeah.” Nix waved his hand. “Talk.”

Dick frowned and his brows pulled together in worry. “Lew, listen to me.” Nix’s eyes widened, panicked. He looked like a skittish animal, cornered by a predator. “Listen, okay? I know what happened the other night scared you.” Nix barked out a terrible, pained laugh. Dick kept going. “But it was an accident.” Nix shook his head once, in negation. Dick pressed on. “Accidents are going to happen.” Dick took another step closer and Nix took a step back, but he was watching Dick closely now. “They’re going to happen, Lew. But we can deal with them. Just like we dealt with this.”

“I could’ve…._I could’ve…._” Nix murmured, eyes wild again. Dick noticed that his hands were trembling.

“But you didn’t, Lew.” Dick held his hands up, soothing, and took another step toward his lover. Nix didn’t back away this time. “You _didn’t _hurt me. And you wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.”

“_How?” _Nix whined, sounding broken. “_How _do you know I wouldn’t?! _I wasn’t even sure, Dick! _I _wanted _to!”

“No, you didn’t.” Dick insisted.

“I did!” Nix shouted. “I smelled it and I wanted it! And the taste…! Dick, I can’t…. I can’t forget it, no matter how hard I try.”

Dick took another step forward, and maybe it was because Nix was still so wound up, but he didn’t respond to that one either. “You _didn’t _want to hurt me, Nix. Do you know how I know?”

Nix snorted. “How?”

“Because your very first thought was my safety.” Dick answered. “And that’s been your concern ever since.” Dick ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Hell, that’s your concern right now. You didn’t want to hurt me, Lew. You don’t now, either. You want to keep me safe. That’s what you want.”

Nix stared at him, eyes wide, like he couldn’t quite process what Dick had just said to him. 

Dick cocked his head curiously. “You see, Lew? That’s what you’ve wanted since the first time we met. And you’ve always done it. Always. I feel safe with you, Lew.”

“No,” Nix said, shaking his head sharply in denial. “You shouldn’t.”

“I do,” Dick insisted, taking another step forward. “I feel safer here with you than I do anywhere else.”

“How?” Nix whispered. “How could you?”

Dick shrugged. “I trust you.” Dick took another step, and finally he was close enough to reach for Nix. They stared at each other for a moment. “Can I touch you?” Dick asked.

Nix gulped but then nodded jerkily.

Dick reached for him, ran his hands down Nix’s arms until he could wrap his long fingers around Nix’s wrists and pull him closer. Nix took a hesitant step toward him. “See?” Dick asked. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Still holding Nix’s gaze, Dick leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips against Nix’s. Nix stiffened for a moment, his whole body going tight in anticipation, but then after a moment, he sighed, his eyes fluttered shut, and his shoulders slumped. Dick kissed him again, and took another step closer so that their chests were pressed against each other. Dick pulled back. “See?” He kissed Nix’s jaw. “I missed you.”

Nix shuddered in his arms. “I missed you too.”

“I know.” Dick held Nix’s face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead, then each closed, weary eye-lid. Then the tip of his nose. “But I’m here now, and so are you. Alright, Lew? You’re right here, in your own house, with me. And everything is okay.” 

“Dick….” Nix sighed, and he tilted his head up, capturing Dick’s lips with his own. Dick opened his mouth and Nix moaned, deep in his throat, and Dick’s blood spiked. He knew that Nix could hear his heart speed up, but he hoped the vampire understood. Dick trailed his hands back so that his fingers tangled in Nix’s soft, dark locks, and he pressed their bodies even closer together. Nix huffed out a breath and then they were moving, Nix’s hands on his hips, unsteadily, down the hall. They bumped into the wall a couple times, but they couldn’t seem to tear themselves away from each other. It was almost painful to part long enough to take the stairs to the bedroom. At the door, Nix pulled Dick back to him, his hands everywhere. “God, I want you,” Nix murmured. “Always, Dick. It’s never enough.”

“Yeah,” Dick mumbled, pushing Nix back into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. “I know the feeling.” He maneuvered them toward the bed and when Nix dropped back onto it, Dick followed him down. And what a sight to behold. Nix: wide, dark eyes staring up at Dick like he was a revelation, red, pouty mouth parted on a gasp, dark hair spilling around his pale face, his body framed in dark, luxurious sheets and pillows. Dick leaned down to capture Nix’s mouth again and they both trembled, just slightly, when Dick’s tongue flicked against a fang again, but it was _okay. _

“Dick,” Nix panted, when Dick drew back, “will you do something for me?”

Dick stared down at him and knew that he would. “What is it?”

Nix shifted underneath him, nervous, maybe? He licked his lips and just stared at Dick for a long, drawn-out minute, before he said “I want you to restrain me.”

Dick sat back, brows rising, but Nix continued to lay there, sprawled below him, completely at Dick’s mercy. And Dick realized that’s what Nix wanted. Maybe what he needed. What he’d been asking for, in one way or another, since they’d met. Dick swallowed thickly. “Tell me.”

“I need….”

“What?” Dick asked. “What do you need?”

“I need…control. I need you to be in control for a little while. I don’t….” Nix squeezed his eyes shut like the words hurt to say. “I don’t…please, Dick. Even if I don’t quite trust myself yet, I uh….” He opened his eyes to gaze up at Dick again. “I trust you.”

And Dick was floored. The confession pressed the breath out of him and he had to fight to catch it again. He looked down at the most amazing, surprising, wonderful person ever to drop into his life, and he said “Alright, Lew.”

Nix nodded, eyes growing darker at the prospect. “The closet,” Nix murmured. “You’ll find something there.”

Dick leaned forward to press their lips together one more time before he withdrew from the bed and headed toward the closet.

* * *

Nix pushed himself up on his elbows and tried to control his rampaging blood. Dick’s silhouette was outline by the light in the closet, but Nix admired his form while the hunter searched around for something to tie Nix up with. Nix had to close his eyes for a minute. He couldn’t believe how they’d gotten here. Hell, he couldn’t believe that Dick was here with him, right now, in his bedroom. Nix had been terrified to have him close again, was _still _terrified, and part of him wanted to tell Dick to _run, _right now, as far as he could, before Nix’s true nature got the better of him. When Nix closed his eyes, he still saw blood. He could taste it, smell it, could imagine it smeared on his lips, and on Dick’s. Could imagine himself drowning in it until he didn’t care about anything anymore. But…. But Nix was weak. He wanted Dick here. He _didn’t _want to tell him to run away. He wanted him to stay. Here. With Nix. In Nix’s home. And in his bed. He wanted Dick in every way that he could have him, and even if Nix didn’t trust himself, he trusted Dick to be able to take care of himself. He knew the hunter still carried the crucifix. He knew it was here, in this room with them. And if Dick bound him, well….

Dick turned from the closet and Nix’s thoughts jarred when his eyes fixed on the silky, blood-red tie that Dick held in his hand. Nix swallowed thickly, but shook his head once, slowly. “That won’t be enough to hold me.”

Dick’s bright blue eyes seemed to pierce right through to the heart of him as he gazed down at Nix from under his cinnamon lashes. “Yes, it will.” Then, Dick was crawling across the bed again, straddling Nix, and all Nix could do was watch with bated breath, helpless, as Dick cupped his face in his hands again and then pressed their lips together. A moment later, Dick pulled back, murmuring, “You said you trust me, Lew.”

“I do,” Nix gasped, helpless.

“Then trust me.”

Nix nodded mutely. “Sit up,” Dick murmured, and Nix complied easily, rising as if pulled by an invisible string. Still perched in his lap, Dick pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth before his fingers skimmed down to Nix’s hem and then Dick was pulling Nix’s shirt up and over his head, before tossing it away. Nix watched it happen, breath hitching in his chest when Dick murmured, “I need you to scoot up now.” So Nix did what he said. He shuffled up toward the head of the bed until Dick’s warm hand pressed against his side. “Lay back,” Dick instructed. Nix nodded wordlessly and lay back against the pillows. He watched, entranced, as Dick followed him back and crouched over him, his strong hands trailing over Nix’s arms until they came to his wrists. Dick lifted Nix’s arms and then brought them both forward so that he could press a warm, gentle kiss against the tender skin of both wrists before he pulled them up above Nix’s head. Then Nix watched, enraptured, nervous, _undone _as Dick slowly, reverently, wound the red silk around each of his wrists and then bound them to the frame of the bed. Nix’s breath came quickly after that, as he lay under Dick and felt like Dick could do anything to him in this moment. Anything. And Nix would let him. Nix would let Dick do whatever he wanted—he realized that had been the case since the first time they met, when they’d found themselves in a situation remarkably similar to this one, when Nix had lain there and allowed Dick to decide his fate. Nix had even made a joke about it, then, saying _You could even tie me up if you want._ And now…here they were.

Nix stared up at him as Dick leaned back to look down at him. “How’s that feel?” Dick asked.

Nix tugged gently at the silk. “Could be tighter.” He panted.

Dick frowned down at him, but his fingers went to work again. “Not too tight,” he murmured. “Now?”

Nix twisted his wrists against one another and they held firm. He nodded. “Yeah. That’s, uh…good.”

“Good.” Dick pressed a gentle kiss to Nix’s lips, then pulled back and away from him. Nix tried to follow him with his mouth, but Dick was standing now. 

“Dick,” Nix protested.

“Hush.” Dick ordered. So Nix hushed.

And he watched, silent, enraptured, as Dick’s hands trailed up to begin unbuttoning his own shirt, slowly, torturously, one at a time, sliding them through the holes. After the last, Dick shrugged and the cloth fell away from his shoulders. Nix gulped, completely fixated. His eyes traced over Dick’s pale, freckled skin. He knew what it tasted like. He wanted his mouth on it now. Dick gazed at him from under his lashes then his fingers drifted to the button on his jeans, and Nix’s breath hitched when Dick dragged his zipper down. The sound sent a shiver through Nix’s bones. He had to clench his eyes shut for a moment, just to get a hold on himself. When he opened them again, he found Dick watching him, hands frozen—only when he had Nix’s attention again, did he continue undressing himself. Next were the boxers, shoved down over Dick’s hips and the swell of his ass, and then he stood there, naked, beautiful, _amazing, _in front of Nix, and Nix began to breathe even faster. Dick’s eyes, usually so bright, had darkened, and they were fixed on Nix. He stepped toward Nix, moving sinuously, confidently, and Nix was reminded, again, that this man was a hunter, a warrior. He was sure of himself, comfortable in his own skin. And he was here. With Nix.

Dick knelt on the bed and Nix raised his head to watch the man, eyes running over his smooth skin and toned muscles, the length of his hard cock. Nix gulped. He knew he was already incredibly hard, and he had to fight for control when Dick’s fingers moved forward and he popped the button on Nix’s jeans, then dragged the zipper down so slowly that Nix thought it might kill him. “Up,” Dick instructed, and Nix obediently lifted his ass. He thought he might pass out from anticipation when Dick pulled his jeans and boxers down his legs and then tossed them, unceremoniously, to the floor.

“Dick,” Nix gasped. Dick stared at Nix for a moment, eyes intense, before he dipped his head and then, with Nix still watching intently, took Nix into his mouth. “Fuck,” Nix hissed, throwing his head back, as the head of his cock was engulfed in an impossible, tight, heat. “Oh, God,” Nix cried. He squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed his head back into the pillows to try to gain some leverage. Dick’s large, gentle hands spanned across his hips to hold him steady and then all Nix could do was gasp and moan, and shake as Dick expertly took him apart.

Nix floated for a while—suspended in pure sensation—_hot, wet, tight: so good, so good, so good_—and only came back to himself when he realized that the helpless, throaty gasps he’d been listening to—his own—stopped. He raised his head, eyes dark, heavy, almost drugged on Dick Winters, only to watch the man pull away from him and wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. “Dick,” Nix begged, “Please. I…I need.”

“Shhhh,” Dick murmured, crawling back over his body to press a kiss to his lips, silencing him. “I’ve got you, Nix.” Then he reached over to the bedside table, opened the top drawer, and pulled out the little bottle of lube that Nix kept stashed there. Nix’s eyes widened as Dick flicked the cap off and poured it onto his fingers.

The only thing Nix could do was stare up at Dick, shell-shocked, as the other man’s eyes fluttered closed and he worked himself open for Nix in a way that he hadn’t before. They hadn’t dared to be together this way yet, and now, thinking of it, Nix felt all of his blood surge frantically through his body before heading decidedly south. “Dick,” he whined, hips rolling in anticipation, “oh God,” he moaned. “Please,” Nix begged. “I need you.”

“I’m right here, Nix,” Dick murmured, eyes still closed as he carried on. He bit his lip and whined in the back of his throat and it drove Nix mad. He twisted his wrists against each other. It went on forever, it seemed, and then just went Nix thought that he wouldn’t be able to survive another minute of torture, Dick opened his eyes, positioned himself, and then sank down slowly, _so torturously slowly _on the length of Nix’s cock. 

Nix choked, gasping for breath, writhing, wrists jerking against his bindings, _coming completely undone _by the sensation of Dick surrounding him. Nix was inside of him and _holy fuck, _that’s the only place he ever wanted to be. Right here. Right here. “Fuck,” Nix moaned, and then Dick pulled back, and sank down again, his own breath hitching on a moan, and Nix was lost. He was gone. “Dick,” he gasped, “oh God, yes, yes, yes,” he panted. “Dick.”

Dick continued to ride him slowly, moaning, crying out, whimpering, and Nix had to fight not to lose it. It was too much, too much, all he could do was throw his head back and press his eyes closed. His wrists strained against his bindings, twisting and jerking, with the movement of his hips, because he wasn’t close enough, he wanted to touch, he _needed to touch, _but Dick had him just where he wanted him. “Nix,” Dick moaned, “oh, God, Nix.” Dick gasped. “So good, so good.”

Nix jerked his hips and Dick gasped again, and the sound was so goddamn sexy Nix was losing his mind. He pulled against the tie and the silk tightened against his skin. Dick shifted and changed the angle and it was too much, all at once. Nix had to bite down on his own lip to keep himself from shouting. He bit down so hard he could taste the trickle of his own blood, but it was enough—his wrists were shaking so hard with the strain of trying not to rip through the silk bindings. It was so absolutely overwhelming, he thought it might actually kill him—the weight and heat and smell and taste of Dick, surrounding him, holding him down—and then Dick gasped again, muttering “God, Nix, I’m close.”

And then Dick reached up, his fingers sliding against Nix’s, and Nix’s eyes sprang open just in time for Dick to slip the knot loose to free Nix’s hands. Nix sprang up, hands reaching for Dick’s hips, sliding up his back to hold him close, and he pressed his face against Dick’s neck while his lover continued to ride him. That, apparently, was all it took, because then Dick was whining his name and then coming all over Nix’s chest, before going limp in Nix’s arms. A moment later, Nix followed, coming inside of the hunter and he bit at his own lip again in that moment, as everything else whited out but the feel of Dick.

And then, eventually, he came back to himself, panting, shaking, with blood dribbling down his chin from the accidental bite. When he blinked his eyes open, he saw the dark red of it smeared against the pale, freckled skin of Dick’s neck and panicked for a moment before he remembered it was his own. He raised a trembling hand and ran his thumb through it. 

Then, Dick pulled back so that he could look Nix in the eyes and they just stared at each other and breathed for a moment while their bodies quaked with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. Finally, Dick tipped his forehead down to rest against Nix’s and whispered, “I trust you, Lew. And I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love and keep me motivated. Please let me know what you think and feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.


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